


Dance With Me

by TheRedWulf



Series: Jaimsa One Shots [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Dancing!Jaime, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Jaimsa, Love, Love Actually References, Modern Era, Politics, Prime Minister, Smut, Strong!Sansa, dance, plot holes, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which Prime Minister Lannister finds his ideal partner, right underneath his nose...Picset is viewableHERE





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is done upon request of BirdeBee and a few others on tumblr, though I forget their names (please refresh my memory). 
> 
> Brought to you by Hugh Grant dancing his way through _Love, Actually_. 
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd (and it is 3am here) so I apologize for any errors.  
Thank you for reading!

Sansa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she set her cell phone on the wooden desk top. Another work day, another cancelled dinner with her family. 

This, of course, meant another angry voicemail from her mother. This time not-so-nicely reminding her that both Robb and Arya had settled down and started families, all while Sansa was slaving away for the Prime Minister. 

Sansa scoffed to herself, you’d think she was working for the mafia the way her mother said ‘Prime Minister Lannister’. As if it were the worst curse she could imagine. 

Turning, she looked out the window, watching the snow flurry and dance on the wind, making her grateful that she was warm in her office. Sure, it was past 7pm on a Friday, but she had a stack of files to work on and she didn’t want to worry about them all weekend. 

A knock sounded on her door and she turned back, smiling at the large man in the frame, “Still here?”

“Nearly done, for today at least, Mr. Prime Minister,” she replied. 

“I have told you at least a dozen times to call me Tywin, my dear, I am not the Prime Minister any longer” he said warmly. 

“And you shall have to ask at least a dozen more, sir,” she countered. 

Tywin Lannister had been a beloved Prime Minister when she was in secondary school and she remembered having something of a terrible crush on him. He was golden, handsome and very charming, it was because of him that she had gone into public relations and politics. Now he had all but retired, helping only during the chaotic holiday season. 

It was now his son, Jaime, who was the Prime Minister, another beloved golden lion and _the_ most eligible bachelor in the country. With good reason, he was simply gorgeous.

Sansa had been hired during his first month in office, being chosen to head up his public relations, press and social media departments, ensuring that all communication from his office was professional and on-trend. It was fast-paced and required quick thinking, but it was incredibly fun.

She loved her job, and not because she was working for the most handsome man in the country---well, that was part of it, but mostly it was because she felt valued and important, she felt as if she were truly making a difference. 

The side door to her office opened and Jaime entered, pausing when he saw his father in the doorway, “Forgive the interruption.”

“No interruption” Tywin nodded. “I was just reminding Miss. Stark, for the hundredth time, that she cannot sleep here.” 

“You worry too much,” she smiled at him, pausing when she saw Jaime frown. “Was there something you needed, Mr. Prime Minister?” she stood and rounded the desk, walking carefully on her expensive high heels. 

One indulgence in her life was nice clothes and shoes. She was a professional, often in the spotlight and she took great care to ensure that she always looked polished and lady like. In her shoes today, she was nearly tall enough to look Jaime in the eyes, though Tywin was still much taller.

“Yes” Jaime cleared his throat, sparing a glance for his father before explaining the press release he needed regarding the visit of the President of Essos.

“Of course, I will get right on it,” she nodded, taking the paperwork. 

“First thing on Monday” Tywin chided and she laughed. 

“Oh, shoo” she waved the papers at him and he shook a finger at her with a smile before making his way day the hall. She turned to see Jaime glaring now and she paused. “Is something the matter?”

“Is there something going on between you and my father that I should know about?”

She almost laughed, but the serious expression on his face told her he was genuinely concerned, “Asking as my boss or as his son?”

“Miss. Stark--”

“No, Mr. Prime Minister” she clarified. “Your father merely likes to make sure I am taking care of myself. He is a good man.”

“Forgive the personal questions, it is only that I have not seen him so care-free in many years” Jaime replied, alluding to the death of his mother several years ago.

“There is nothing to worry about, sir,” she confirmed. “I will work on the release--”

“Monday is fine, I just saw your light on and figured I would give you the information while I was thinking about it” he paused. “Why _are_ you here so late?”

“I have a few things to edit and review before the weekend and I would rather finish them than worry all weekend,” she replied. 

“I thought you had the thing with your parents?”

“Oh” she was honestly very surprised that he remembered that. She had mentioned it in passing earlier in the week, assuming that he would forget it as soon as she said it. “No, I cancelled.”

“Ah” he nodded. 

“It's hard to go to those things anyway,” she admitted. “Two of my siblings are doing the marriage and family thing and I usually end up being the odd wheel---I have no idea why I said that, I am sorry.”

“There is no need to be sorry” he smiled that million-dollar smile and ran a hand through his blonde hair, she swore her knees went weak. “I understand the sentiment perfectly. My siblings have both married and started families and the only relation I see with any regularity is my father, at work.”

“Well, your work _is_ rather important” she smirked, moving back to her desk. 

“A bit” he chuckled. “I shall leave you to it, though, don’t stay too late” he told her. 

“I should be leaving in the next five minutes or so,” she assured him, retaking her seat. 

“Perfect, then I will see you on Monday” he gave an awkward snap-clap of his hands and retreated, shaking his head as he closed the door behind himself. 

Sansa couldn’t help but smile at him. He may be the most important, powerful man in Westeros, but he was so boyishly charming, it was adorable. 

She would not admit it, not aloud anyway, but the school girl crush she had on his father paled in comparison to the feelings she had (rather stupidly) developed for her boss, Jaime Lannister. It was silly and occasionally distracting, and she did her best to hide them. 

Fortunately, no one had seemed to notice and she hoped to keep it that way. 

Crossing her legs she started reading the report he had handed her, and she must have lost track of time, because it was thirty minutes later when music echoed in the hall, coming from the office beside hers. 

Smiling to herself, she stood and walked slowly toward the source of the music. She had just reached the hall and was surprised to see Jaime dancing his heart out as the radio blared. He shimmied across the hall and when he started to disco she had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing aloud. 

As he rotated back, his eyes landed on her and he faltered, if slightly. 

He resumed, however, when a new song picked up and rather than shy away, he worked his way towards her, “Dance with me” he laughed, extending his hand. 

“Sir--”

“Its 8pm on Friday, Sansa” he took her hand, spinning her into his arms. “Call me Jaime.”

And that was how she found herself dancing with the Prime Minister, both of them laughing and singing along to terrible, ancient disco without a care in the world. 

Sansa had thought about their dances all weekend. Whether she wanted to or not, they had stuck in her mind and she could not forget what it felt like to be in Jaime’s arms as they moved. And they had danced for sometime, giggling like school children at the assortment of disco and dance songs that the DJ had chosen. She would never be able to listen to disco again without thinking of Jaime--Prime Minister Lannister. 

Entering her office first thing on Monday, she was surprised to see a bouquet of pink roses on her desk in a teapot-turned-vase.

“What” she set her purse and briefcase aside to grab the card, opening it to see the familiar masculine handwriting. 

_ “I’ll keep you, my disco little secret. - J” _ she read and laughed out loud. The flowers and the funny little vase were perfect, adorable reminders of their dance. 

But flowers…that comma...

She had certainly not expected flowers. 

“Miss. Stark, we have to deal with the Herald in ten” her personal assistant, Oberyn, announced as he carried a stack of files and a large cup of coffee into her office. “Ooh, roses! A woman as beautiful as you deserves roses every day.”

“Flatterer” she laughed, taking the cup with a grateful smile. 

“Who are they from?” 

“No one” she answered quickly and her P.A. paused mid-step. 

“Oh?” He smirked. 

“Oberyn—“

“He must be special, you’ve been here a year and haven’t gotten flowers before” he reasoned. 

“He’s...too far out of my league” she said softly, tucking the card into her journal. “So, let’s worry about the Herald and forget about my dating life.”

“Fine, fine” he set the files on her conference table near the windows. “If I may” he crossed to her as she shrugged out of her jacket. He raised his hands to smooth and fix her hair, and she smiled. 

“Thank you,” she squared her shoulders. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful” he assured her and she laughed, shaking her head. 

When she first met Oberyn Martell, his wildly flirtatious nature had disconcerted her, but she quickly realized that he was just a harmless flirt and damned good at his job. 

Not to mention he was happily married with 4 daughters. 

“Alright, lets—”

“Oh” Jaime’s voice interrupted their conversation and she looked up to see him in the doorway connecting their offices. 

“Mr. Prime Minister” she smiled. 

“Did you...did you have a good weekend?” he asked, glancing to the flowers and doing that awkward snap-clap once more. 

“I did” she smiled. “You?”

“Quiet, but good” he replied with a crooked smile. “I will just...uh...talk to you later.”

“Sure” she smiled as he retreated and turned to see Oberyn watching her, a single eyebrow raised. 

“Excuse me” Oberyn crossed his arms. 

“What?”

“Ex-cuuuuse me” he repeated, looking to the flowers and the door the Prime Minister has retreated through. 

“Oh, shut up” she moved away, grabbing her files and coffee. “The Herald awaits.”

Jaime watched her, covertly of course, as she spoke with several members of the associated press. She stood tall, proud and stunning in her polished black pencil skirt and grey blouse. Her hair was tamed into a chignon today and he found he missed seeing it loose to her waist. 

He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t noticed her beauty before. In truth he’d been noticing it every day since he’d hired her a year ago. She was qualified, sure, but she was just...incredible. 

He hadn’t intended for her to catch him dancing last Friday, but he couldn’t be embarrassed when it had opened the door to dancing and laughing with Sansa until after 9pm. 

Holding her, feeling her laughter echo through him where their bodies were connected, was just...everything. 

He had nearly lost control when he saw her with his father. Had nearly dropped the facade of cool indifference at the easy laugh she had drawn from his father, one he hadn’t heard in years. He had been angry to think that she had taken up with his father, a man more than twice her age and a widower devoted to his wife. That she had taken up with Tywin and not…with him.

He’d been an idiot, worrying over an exchange of banter and even going so far as to talk to his after about it.

_ Jaime closed the door between his and Sansa’s offices and raised his head to see his father sitting at his desk, arms crossed as he smirked. _

_ “Father—” _

_ “I’d ask you about the display in Sansa’s office, but for some reason I don’t think you’d be honest with me” Tywin chuckled. _

_ “I don’t know what—“_

_ “I’ve been in politics for a long time, Jaime, I know a front when I see it” Tywin interjected and Jaime felt his shoulders slump. _

_ “She works for me” Jaime reasoned lamely. _

_ “She’s beautiful and intelligent, Jaime. There is no shame in being attracted to her.”_

_ “Who says I’m—“_

_ “Son” Tywin chuckled, uncrossing his arms and rising to his full height. “There is no shame in it. You could do far worse.”_

_ “There’s nothing going on” Jaime said quietly, pacing to the window. “Not...for lack of want, just…”_

_ “I understand,” Tywin clapped his back in support. “But if I give you any advice worth listening to, it is this; don’t let a good woman get away.” _

_ “Dad…” _

_ “A good woman is hard to find--impossible, I dare say. So when you meet one, you have to grab onto her with both hands and don’t let her slip away” Tywin said with a soft smile. “Great love is rare, Jaime, and even if it doesn’t last forever, as we wish it did, it's still worth every second of heartache.” _

_ Jaime knew his father was talking of Joanna, Jaime’s mother and the great love of his life. Jaime nodded in agreement and ran a hand over his face, wondering where the the Seven Hells he was supposed to start. _

_ “Flowers” Tywin smiled as if reading his mind. “Flowers are a good place to start.”_

So he had taken his father’s advice and had flowers sent to Sansa’s office, complete with a silly pun that he was sure made him look like a jackass. Still, he just wanted her to know, on some level that he valued her for more than just her political brain. Her long legs. Her fiery hair. Her-- 

Shit, he shook his head, focusing on the documents in front of him. He needed to focus on the tasks at hand and worry about Sansa later. 

Which was, in all honesty, easier said than done. 

Jaime walked into Sansa’s office the following day, hoping to finally have a chance to speak with her, only to find her standing near the window, quickly wiping her eyes. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, moving to her side. 

“Yes” she nodded, sniffling and taking a deep breath. “I am fine. Sorry about that. What can I do for you, sir?”

“What I need can wait, are you sure you’re alright? You can talk to me about anything” he assured her. 

“Stop being so nice” she blinked away fresh tears. Jaime pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “Thank you.”

“Boss or not, I do care” he told her. “If you need to talk, about anything, my door is always open.”

“My sister is pregnant” she said quietly. “Again.”

“Ah. And that’s...bad?”

“Only because my mother loves to remind me that Arya is only 25, married and working on her second child” Sansa explained. “And that I am nearly 30, single and only have one, rather ugly, house plant.” 

“I’m sorry” he took a deep breath. “People move at different paces, life moves differently for everyone. I am forty-one, and the last woman I had dinner with was crucified by the media.”

Sansa gave a watery laugh, “In all fairness, I did my best to handle that, but her dress _did_ make her look like a prostitute.”

He couldn’t help but laugh in agreement, “Alright, that’s fair.” Her smile was heart-stopping, and this time is reached her eyes, chasing away the sadness. “Is marriage and family something you want?”

“Yes” she nodded. “Very much. But I love my job, I love contributing to something bigger than myself.”

“That’s good, I would be loathe to lose you,” he replied. “Especially…” he trailed off, running a hand over his face. He had to choose his words carefully, had to be sure he didn’t overstep and send her running for the hills. 

“Especially, what?” she prompted. 

“Sansa, I--”

The door to her office burst open and her P.A. ran in, “Oh,” he paused. “Sorry but we have a problem.” 

“Of course” Sansa nodded, turning back to him. “We’ll talk later.”

“Later” he promised, watching as she schooled her features and dove back into work, following Oberyn out of her office. 

Jaime watched her go, admiring how graceful she was in the black high heels; her presence effortlessly commanding. He turned back to the window, watching the world below the second story view. 

He had not expected to find her in such a personal moment, but seeing her so exposed only served to root her further into his heart and his head. 

He knew that the tyranny of comparison was hard to avoid, especially when you had siblings who seemed to be moving forward faster than you were, and parents that didn’t understand. Sansa’s mother seemed to be a hard case, pushing Sansa in an attempt to bend her to her own will. 

Sansa was an integral part of his team, one that he could not work efficiently without and he was glad that she stood up to her mother, glad that she loved working with him so much. 

With a sigh he returned to his own office and the paperwork that couldn’t wait.

“Busy?” Sansa asked from the doorway, holding a take away tray with two coffee cups and a box of lemon cakes balanced on it. It was the end of the work day, and somehow, she had managed to survive.

“Please tell me that’s cake” Jaime stood and rounded his desk to clear a space on the meeting table. 

“It is” she moved into his office and set everything down. “Though I have an ulterior motive” she pulled the stack of papers from her bag. 

“I am drowning in paper” he sighed, sinking to the closest chair. 

“That’s not allowed” she smirked. “These are just final press releases and a list of photo ops for the President’s visit. But, I am softening the blow with a chai and lemon cakes.”

“That’s acceptable then” he replied as she took her cup from the tray and turned away. “What, you’re leaving?”

“I don’t want to interrupt your work” she replied. 

“Please, I beg of you, interrupt it” he motioned to the chair beside him and she set her bag down before joining him. “You’re the one who got me addicted to these cakes, now you have to eat one before I eat them all and you have to deal with the media commenting on my sugar addiction.”

Sansa laughed, “There are worse addictions, I suppose. Your sister’s alcohol addiction has kept me busy today.”

Jaime frowned, “Again?”

“She had a bit of a fit in a restaurant” Sansa explained. “We smoothed everything over, I believe. Don’t worry.”

“I am sure my father will have words with her” Jaime took a cake from the box and handed it to Sansa before taking one for himself. 

“I do not want to be there when he does” Sansa shook her head. “I have seen angry Tywin Lannister, not often, but enough to know that I never want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.”

“It is not enjoyable, I assure you” Jaime agreed. “I am fairly certain the last photographer he demeaned still hasn’t left their house.” 

Sansa laughed, loudly and the exaggerated expression on his face hammering home his ‘yikes’ point and she couldn’t help it. Though always professional in the spotlight, he was really a goof at heart. 

She froze when Jaime’s hand crossed the distance between them and his thumb brushed at the corner of her mouth. She met his emerald gaze, watching him as he too froze, his hand on her cheek. 

“Sugar” he whispered, but did not remove his hand. 

“Jaime” she felt herself leaning closer. 

“Dance with me” he asked. 

“Dance?”

“It’s late, most everyone is gone,” he added. 

“And the others?”

“Let them see” he replied, smiling that boyish smirk that did wonderful things to her body. 

“Alright” she agreed, knowing that it would only take one person to see them for the rumors and gossip to fly. 

But if Jaime didn’t care, neither did she. 

Jaime stood, crossing to the radio on the bookcase to switch it on. Old jazz standards filled the office, the relaxing music of a time forgotten. 

He returned to Sansa, offering his hand and she took it, kicking off her shoes as she stood. She was a tall woman, but she still barely reached his shoulder, her hand going to his shoulder as they swayed to the music. 

It had taken quite a bit of soul searching, his father’s encouragement running through his head on repeat, but he realized now that there was no future that he wanted that didn’t include Sansa. 

He’d known she was unique from the moment he met her, but their year of working together had shown him she was so much more that he ever imagined. 

She knew him, the real him and not the one from the tabloids and news channels. She knew he was a goof, prone to making terrible puns and dad-jokes but she stood by him, through it all. 

He spun her around, smiling as she laughed and spun back into his embrace. 

“You’re very good at that,” she said. 

“With the right partner, I am” he replied. 

“Jaime” she whispered. 

“Tell me you feel it” he asked. 

“I do” she admitted softly, stepping closer as they danced. 

“What shall we do about it, then?” 

“What do you want to do?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“Everything” he spun her again, and as she came back to him he pulled her flush against him. “But first, dinner.”

“Dinner” she smiled. “Dinner, I can do.”

Sansa woke to her phone ringing, the shrill chime having her grimacing before she even opened her eyes. Rolling over she blindly picked up the phone, “What?” 

“Did you have a nice evening?” Oberyn’s voice was laced with amusement. 

“What?”

“You. Mister Prime-hotness-Minister. Dancing.”

“What?!” she sat straight up. 

“Congrats, you two made the cover.”

“No!!” 

“Oh, yes” he chuckled. Sansa tossed her phone aside and ran to the door, opening it to grab the newspaper and when she opened it her stomach fell. 

“Oh no,” she sighed, looking at the very romantic looking photo of her and Jaime, dancing in his office. They were smiling at each other, her on her tiptoes, and Jaime’s hair falling across his forehead in the most delicious way. 

It was a lovely photo, the two of them looking very much in love. Which, she supposed, wasn’t that far from the truth. 

They hadn’t even had their first dinner and they were already in the news. 

Someone on staff had taken the photo, someone had violated their confidentiality agreement in selling it to the press. She was damned sure going to figure out who, and fire them. What a mess. 

She set about her morning routine, and as she made her way to the office, she grabbed a tray of coffee and lemon cakes. It seemed they were needed. 

The office was chaos, and she noticed that everyone stopped to watch her as she walked by. 

Great, she sighed to herself. 

Oberyn stood as she reached her office and she handed him a cup of coffee, “Thank you” he smirked. 

“Go ahead. Say it” she challenged. 

“I knew it!” Oberyn beamed. “Prime hotness!”

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she strode into her office only to find Tywin Lannister sitting behind her desk, the newspaper on his knee. 

“Mr. Prime Minister” she greeted, setting the coffee tray and cakes down. 

“Lovely photo” he raised the newspaper. 

“I can explain—-“

“Not my finest work, but I’m not terribly good with cell phones” he smirked. 

“You?” Sansa gasped. 

He chuckled, “Who else?” 

“If you worked for me, I’d fire you” she countered. 

“I’d expect nothing less. _If_ I worked for you” he folded the paper and dropped it on her desk.

“Why?” 

“I want grandchildren” he replied. 

“You already have 5!”

“None of them have red hair,” he countered. “Or your spirit.”

“Tywin” she sighed, sinking into the chair opposite her desk. 

“She finally calls me Tywin” he laughed. 

“Apparently you want me to call you ‘Dad’!” 

“I wouldn’t object,” he stated. 

“You’ve made a mess of things,” she explained. 

“No more than Cersei’s most recent drunken rampage” he said. “Besides, you two needed a push. You’ve been circling each other for ages.”

“Sansa!” Jaime burst into the office via the connecting door, the newspaper in his hand. 

Wordlessly she held up the paper coffee cup, extending it to him. 

“Jaime” Tywin nodded from behind her desk. “Glad to see you making use of those dancing lessons your mother insisted upon.”

“I can explain,” he said. 

“Don’t bother” Sansa said, motioning to Tywin. “Meet your photographer.”

“What?” Jaime took the coffee cup, gaping at his father who only gave a leonin smirk in reply. 

“A traitor in our own ranks” Sansa smirked at Tywin. 

“Traitor? Never” Tywin chuckled. “It’s for the greater good, my dear.”

“Greater good?” Jaime gaped. 

“Your father is rather anxious for us to procreate” Sansa explained. 

“You serious? You’re serious!” Jaime started. “We haven’t even gone to dinner yet.”

“I’m not a young man anymore, Jaime” Tywin shrugged, unfolding himself from the chair and rising to his great height. 

“This is ridiculous” Jaime sighed, sitting in the chair beside Sansa. 

“I will handle it” Sansa said. 

“How?” Jaime asked. 

“The truth?”

“And that is?”

Sansa met his concerned emerald eyes, “That this--us, is new and we’d appreciate if they respect our request for distance and privacy.”

“Will that work?” Jaime asked. 

“Not likely” she laughed. “I suspect I will have to make a few appearances during the President’s visit.”

“Well” Jaime gave a small smile. “That’s not so bad.”

“I’ll be a terrible ‘First Lady’,” she sighed. 

“Let me be the judge of that” Jaime replied. “I will have an agent assigned to you for security. Now that you’re attached to me, you may be a target.”

“Lovely” she turned to glare at Tywin. “Thanks!”

“You’re very welcome” he chuckled, walking to the door. “My work here is done. I will see you two for dinner soon, yes?” 

“Yes” Sansa shook her head, turning back to Jaime as Tywin vanished into the hall. “I wish I could fire him.”

“He’s like a bad penny” Jaime smirked. “Keeps turning up, even though he doesn’t actually work here.”

“It would make me feel better” she picked up her coffee cup. “I brought cake.”

“Perfect” he said, opening the box and handing her a piece. 

“Are you sure I can’t fire him?” she asked as she took the cake. 

He laughed, taking a cake for himself, “Positive.” They ate their cakes in peace, Jaime reluctantly standing after he had finished his. 

“You know” Sansa said as she stood. 

“Hmm?”

“All this fuss and you haven’t even kissed me” she smirked. 

“That can easily be remedied” he set his cup on her desk and took hers to do the same. 

“Jaime--”

“Mine” he pulled her close and lowered his lips to hers. 

If she had ever been kissed before, it was nothing compared to the kiss she shared now with Jaime. His lips were full, soft and demanding, parting her own to claim ownership of her mouth. She could vaguely taste the coffee and lemon cake on his tongue as it danced with hers, and it was sinfully delicious. 

His arms banded around her as she clung to the lapels of his suit jacket, her legs nearly too weak to hold herself up as he kissed her. 

She would gladly kiss him for the rest of her life and never tire of it. She would never tire of the feeling of his arms around her, the way it felt to be pressed against him. 

“Oh!” the sound had them pulling apart, both breathless as they looked to where Oberyn stood in the doorway. “I suppose I will have to start knocking.” 

“What is it?” Sansa asked, still in Jaime’s arms. 

“The press awaits,” he said. 

“Lovely” Sansa sighed. “Give me 2 minutes” she said and Oberyn ducked back to his desk, closing the door. 

“2 minutes” Jaime smirked. “I can work with that,” he said as she kissed her once more, this time her arms banding around his neck as she returned his kiss with everything she had. 

“Relax” Jaime took Sansa’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s alright” he smiled. 

“No” she shook her head. “I should be on _that_ side of things” she explained, looking to where the assistants and photographers stood. 

“Not anymore” he took her hand and guided it over his arm, keeping her close to his side. 

“Oh boy” she took a few deep breaths as the President of Essos exited the limousine. 

President Daenerys Targaryen, the woman in charge of Essos, was a force to be reckoned with. Translation, a royal bitch. She was small, blonde and rude, no matter what your title or rank was. Sansa had spent the last few months bending over backwards to accommodate her for his state visit, and was already fed up with her. 

But now, thanks to Tywin and his meddling, Sansa was standing beside Jaime as they greeted her at the Prime Minister’s estate. Jaime looked impeccable as always in his deep blue suit and white dress shirt; no man had a right to look that wonderful, of that she was certain. 

Sansa wore her usual polished suit and heels, knowing that while she had slipped into the role of the Prime Ministers girlfriend, she also had a job to do to keep things moving smoothly with the press.

For now, however, she was an ornament on Jaime’s arm. 

The country had exploded at the news of Jaime’s attachment to her. To a woman who worked behind the scenes, but had somehow snagged the attention of the most eligible bachelor in the world. 

Press had been following them non-stop for the last week, hounding them at all hours, vying for a chance to photograph scandal--or lust. 

Sansa stood tall beside Jaime, holding on to his arm as President Targaryen exited her car and made her way toward him. She had her normal entourage of several secret service agents, clad in a dour black suit that emphasized her shock of white-blonde hair. 

“Madam President” Jaime greeted. 

“Prime Minister Lannister” she replied, offering her hand and Jaime took it, shaking it softly. 

“President Targaryen” Jaime replied. “I trust your travels were smooth.” 

“Smooth enough” she replied, glancing to Sansa before fixing her gaze on Jaime. “Are you as cut throat as your father or should I drive a sword through my own back?” she asked, her smile never faltering. 

“Just keep smiling, Madam” Jaime encouraged her, moving to rest his hand over Sansa’s on his arm. “And we’ll make it through this.”

“Amen, Lannister” President Targaryen smirked. “Amen.” 

Sansa did her best to keep smiling, holding close to Jaime’s side as the introductions were made and they moved into the offices together. 

In the year-plus that she had been employed by the Prime Minister, she never felt that she earned a glass of wine more than she did by the end of that day. 

“Tell me,” President Targaryen started, looking to Sansa with a cold look. “How long have you worked for Prime Minister Lannister?”

“Since his first month in office” Sansa replied, sipping her water to keep her expression schooled. Jaime could feel how tense she had been all day, their very new relationship experiencing baptism by fire as they walked the political gauntlet together. 

He had done this by himself for the past year and he had to admit, having Sansa close at his side, rather than milling about the periphery was a vast improvement. Rather than looking forward to each time she approached to speak softly in his ear, he was able to hold onto her hand and admire her without fear of being discovered. 

The media had, of course, been in a frenzy over the discovery of their relationship and he was sure tomorrow their photo would be on the cover of every newspaper and magazine across the world. Standing together, hand-in-hand as they greeted the President. 

A President who seemed to enjoy making Sansa uncomfortable. 

It did not escape his notice, nor did it escape his father’s and the Director of the Armed Forces, Stannis Baratheon, who was seated on Sansa’s opposite side. 

“You are so young to be in such a prevalent position,” President Targaryen said, pausing to give a tight smile. “You must be quite brilliant.” _Or you slept your way into the job_, she left the words unsaid but everyone paying attention understood her meaning. 

“Miss. Stark is in possession of a singular political mind” Tywin said, raising his glass of arbor gold wine with deceptive apathy. This was how he had gotten so far in the political world, he had an unflappable, cool facade. “A mind that some can only aspire to.”

President Targaryen raised a brow, watching as Tywin sipped his wine, “Is that so?” 

“Indeed, it is” Stannis chimed in, giving Sansa a comforting nod. 

“I suppose being named for a great, Northern Queen, she should live up to the name” President Targaryen replied. 

“Queen Sansa was a great queen” Sansa said. “She kept her people alive and safe during the Long Winter. She fed her people and those of an invading realm, knowing that even against winter, mankind must band together to survive.”

“Remind me of that Queen’s name?” Tywin stated. 

“Queen Daenerys, of house Targaryen, first of her name” Sansa replied without looking away from where her and President Targaryen were locked in a heated stare.

“She was a good Queen, freed the whole of Essos” President Targaryen said. 

“Trading one form of servitude for another is not freedom” Sansa said. “I suppose I should be grateful that we no longer simply burn our political opponents.” 

Jaime saw his father hiding a smile with his wine glass, clearly pleased with Sansa’s response. Of course he would be, Tywin seemed to adore everything about Sansa.

Before their conversation could continue, Oberyn appeared, bending down to whisper in Sansa’s ear for a few moments. She kept her expression neutral, but he could tell by her eyes that she wasn’t happy with whatever news Oberyn was delivering. 

“I apologize, but if you will excuse me” she gracefully stood and placed her napkin on the table. He took her hand, carefully kissing the knuckles, their eyes meeting in unspoken conversation before she turned and followed Oberyn out the door. 

She did not return to dinner and he did not see her until President Targaryen had been escorted to her rooms within the mansion and he sought Sansa out in her office. 

He was surprised to find her kneeling before Cersei where she sat at Sansa's desk, helping to clean up his sister’s bleeding lip with a damp cloth. 

“What happened?” Jaime demanded, seeing the bruising on his sister’s cheek and jaw. 

“Robert” Sansa said quietly, Cersei’s only response was to sip the tea in her hands. 

“That son of a---”

“Jaime” Sansa stood, assuring Cersei that she would be right back and took Jaime into his office. “He’s been arrested, though I now know this isn’t the first time his behaviour has been violent.”

“Cersei’s drinking?” Jaime sighed. 

“Some people drink to remember, and some drink to forget” Sansa nodded. “Your father is waiting for his car to arrive, which should be any minute. She will go with him to his penthouse tonight” Sansa explained. “I kept it as quiet as I could, but I am sure it will be in the papers tomorrow. It is vital that you show a united front, but you cannot be emotional over this. Anything that could be perceived as a threat or--”

“I know. I know,” he nodded, running a hand through his hair. He had never cared for his sister’s husband, but he never imagined that Robert would hurt Cersei. She had been spiraling for months now, her behavior erratic and her alcoholism off the charts. Now he knew why. 

“Tommen and Myrcella will stay with Tyrion and Tysha, Joffrey will stay at school” Sansa said. 

“You’ve handled everything then” he gave a small smile. 

“I do my best” she returned the smile. Tywin’s voice sounded in the hall and she excused herself. “Be right back.” 

“Alright” Jaime nodded, crossing to the window. He paused only to turn on the radio, soft music filling the office as he waited. 

Sansa found him a short while later, pausing inside his door to kick off her shoes before moving to his side. As had become a new habit, his arm went around her, holding her to his side. 

“What would I do without you?” he said softly. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea” she smiled up at him and he leaned down to kiss her softly. 

_ “This one goes out to Prime Minister Lannister and his dancing queen,” the radio DJ announced. “You two are adorable, enjoy your dance! Here’s to many more!” _

Sansa laughed as a disco song filled the air and Jaime raised a brow, “Dance with me” he smiled and the stress of the day melted away when they danced and laughed together in the dim light of his office.

Daenerys couldn’t sleep, thanks to jet lag. So after pacing her, rather lovely, room for a while, she decided to take a walk around the mansion. 

Her Secret Service agent Jorah behind her, she walked down the great staircase, looking over the photos of past Prime Ministers. Tywin and Jaime Lannister were the most recent prime ministers, both intimidating in their own way, cold and aloof. 

Reaching the first floor, she heard music and laughter. Glancing back to Jorah, she followed the sound to see the Prime Minister and his young girlfriend dancing in his office. 

Sansa’s shoes were gone, Jaime’s tie discarded and they cared nothing for the world beyond their dance. Gone was the cold, polished couple that had greeted her, instead they looked like every other regular couple in the world. 

She knew, in the world of politics, women had to be twice as sharp as men in order to make it. She used to be a young girl with hope, with a rosy outlook on the world but the years had seen to that, turning her colder, harder. She was a far cry from the young girl that longed for the red door and lemon tree of her youth. 

But Sansa, she seemed to be able to hold on to her youthful innocence and the hope in her eyes. She emanated beauty and life, something Daenerys had long ago given up on.

She watched them dance for several minutes before forcing herself to turn away. She smiled up at Jorah, who gave her a reassuring smile of his own, and made her way back up the stairs to her room. 

“Come with me” Sansa tugged on Jaime’s hand, guiding him to him to the stairs.

“Sansa?” he paused, realizing her direction. He looked uncertain, but no less handsome. 

“Are you really going to make me ask twice?” she smirked. 

“Absolutely not” he laughed, following her as she led him up the stairs. When they reached the upper landing, he took over leading her, guiding her passed the guards and into his bedroom where he closed and locked the door. 

Sansa crossed to the large window, shrugging out of her blazer and tossing it across the chair as she looked out over the cityscape for a brief moment before she pulled the drapes closed. 

She felt Jaime move behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to nuzzle his face into the curve of her neck. She leaned against his strength, enjoying that they could lean on each other after a very long day dealing with politics.

Dealing with President Bitch Face.

Dealing with Robert fucking Baratheon.

Though, in that regard, Sansa was fairly certain that once she spoke with Stannis tomorrow, he would straighten his brother out quick-fast and in a hurry. She wouldn’t have to worry about Robert after tomorrow. 

For now, she was going to focus on Jaime and enjoy their first evening together. 

“You know” he said quietly, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he spoke. “Looking back, I’ve been falling in love with you from the moment I met you.”

She swallowed a lump of emotion, turning in his arms to face him, “I would have contented myself to love you from afar for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah?” he smirked that dangerous smirk that had women across the globe swooning. 

“A little” she teased him, raising her hands to run them through his unruly blonde hair. “I mean, you _are_ rather charming.” 

“Charming enough” he retorted. 

“Makes me wonder” Sansa raised her hands to the top buttons of his dress shirt. “If you’re as charming out of these clothes as in them.”

“I’ve never had any complaints” he smirked. 

“Probably not the best thing to say right now” she grimaced, working the buttons free. 

“No, probably not” he agreed with a laugh. 

“Jaime?”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me” she tugged his shirttails free from his slacks, parting the fabric to reveal the undershirt he wore underneath. Jaime didn’t need to be told twice, leaning to take her lips in a deep, sensual kiss that travelled straight through her, all the way to her toes. 

The man could kiss, Gods he was good. She pushed his shirt away, running her hands over the muscle of his chest and back as his mouth devoured hers. His brain kicked into gear and soon he was working on the buttons of her dress shirt and tugging it away. 

He pulled back, cursing softly at the sight of her pale pink lace bra. She loved professional clothing and shoes, but lingerie was her true indulgence. Beautiful, lacey lingerie made her feel confident and beautiful, even in a modest suit.

“You’re stunning” he whispered, tossing her shirt aside and working the side-zip of her skirt free so the material could fall to the floor. “Fuck…”

Sansa smirked, knowing that the pale pink panties, stockings and garter belt she’d pulled on that morning for an extra boost of confidence were definitely being appreciated now. His hand dipped into the lace of her panties, tracing across her skin and sending goose flesh across it. 

“Jaime” she unbuckled his belt before slipping her hand into his slacks. She nearly groaned aloud as she found the long length of him already more than ready for her. “We can do slow, sensual love-making later,” she stroked him slowly. “Right now, I just really need you inside me.” 

“I am not going to argue with you” he scooped her up and carried her to the large bed, both of them laughing as they fell across the comforter and their limbs tangled together. 

Their mouths met again and the rest of Jaime’s clothes were shed, the man even more impressive without his perfectly tailored suits. Her bra joined his clothing but when he tugged her panties away, he left her garter and stockings. 

“Oh I see” she laughed as he stayed her hand when she went to unbuckle them. 

“Your legs are fucking fantastic” he ran a hand from her knee to her hip before trailing to her core. “But this….”

“Jaime” she gasped as he deftly teased her, fire shooting through her veins. 

“Gods, I love you” he moved over her, kissing her deeply as his fingers worked her. Sansa could only force herself to breathe, holding tightly to him as he played her body like a fine instrument. It didn’t take long, not when she had been keyed up since he kissed her in his office, but soon she arched under him, crying out his name as he pushed her over the edge. “Beautiful” she barely heard his encouragement over the blood racing in her ears. 

“Fuck” she choked out, clinging to him as he moved over her and between her legs. 

“Mine” he kissed her softly as he aligned himself and sank into her in a single, smooth thrust. 

“Fuck, so good” she held tightly to him, her long unused body doing its best to accommodate his, rather impressive, cock. 

Oh Gods, he felt incredible, everything she could have hoped for and more. Being connected to him, being joined was...everything. 

Jaime nearly lost it the moment he settled inside of her, her slick channel holding snug to his body, feeling more like home than anything had in his entire life. 

Sansa---his, Sansa was incredibly strong and beyond beautiful. Not only had she unflinchingly met President Targaryen’s challenge, but she ran to Cersei’s rescue at the first sign of trouble, ensuring that their private family business was handled in the best possible way. 

She was a force to be reckoned with, in the best possible way. And he knew, from the moment he met her, that he would love her. That she was truly unique and he was hopeless not to love her. 

Now, here they were, finally making love to each other. 

“I love you” Sansa whispered, kissing him softly. 

He began to move, slowly at first, rocking his hips as her arms and legs wrapped around him. Her hands tunneled into his hair, those impossibly long legs around him, holding him tightly, even as he moved over her again and again. 

Her soft mewls turned to whimpers and then soft cries as they moved in the age-old dance, their bodies lost to instinct and sensation. Her cunt was a hot, wet, velvet fist around him and he was on the edge of already frayed control. 

“Jaime, please” she gasped, her hips rising to meet his. 

“Fuck” he hissed, his smooth thrusts losing their finesse, hips slapping against hers in rough, deep movements. “I…” he choked on his own pleasure. “I love you, Sansa, fuck, so fucking much” he panted. 

“Jaime” she pleaded. “My Jaime…”

He felt her body tense and then clamp around him as she cried his name, coming in long pulses that yanked him over the edge behind her. His release tore from his body with a fierce growl as he poured into her, holding her tightly against him. 

As they trembled in each other’s arms, he registered the feeling of her fingers toying with his hair, her lips dancing across his jaw, and he smiled. 

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered. 

“I think we’re pretty beautiful together” she replied, kissing his chin. 

“I can’t argue with that” he agreed. 

“It’s a good thing I am on the pill” she chuckled as his body slipped from hers. 

“Fuck” he sighed, his forehead resting against hers. “I didn’t even think--”

“I know” she smiled, smoothing his hair back. “It’s alright.” 

“Ya know” he rolled beside her, still holding her closely. “We’ll make beautiful babies.” 

“Oh we will, will we?” she laughed softly, nuzzling to his side. 

“We will. Someday.”

“What the fuck” Sansa laughed, dropping the newspaper onto the desk. 

“Well, _that_ is an unflattering photo” Oberyn reasoned. 

“Apparently” she laughed, glaring at the printed words. _ “'First Girlfriend' Pregnant? Love child on the way?”_ the headline read and she shook her head. 

“Let’s just agree that the Michael Kors pea coat should stay out of the wardrobe lineup” Oberyn laughed. 

“I can’t believe they think I am pregnant” Sansa sank to her chair, raising her feet to rest on the mahogany. “I don’t even look pregnant!”

“They just want to sell papers” Oberyn reasoned. “And no, you don’t look pregnant.”

“Thank the Gods for that” Sansa sighed, looking to her personal assistant. “You’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“Absolutely not” he scoffed. “Trust me, darling, if you looked pregnant, I would be the _first_ to ask you!” 

“I believe that” she laughed, shaking her head. “What a mess.” 

“Well, I suppose you would always just take a pregnancy test and share a picture of it” Oberyn laughed. 

“Well that’s poor form” Sansa smirked, sipping her coffee. 

“You two have been together for nearly a year, scandal free! The media feast on any crumb that you give them” Oberyn explained. “You have such an iron grip on them, they’re grasping at straws.”

At that moment, Jaime walked through the open door between their offices, holding the paper in his hands, “Something you want to tell me, darling?” he laughed. 

“Oh, shut up” she leaned up to kiss him as he rounded his desk. “I am coming to grips with the fact that I look pregnant to the world at large.”

“Not at all, darling” he assured her, smoothing his knuckles over her cheek as he stood and grabbed her coffee cup, sipping the brew. “Just wait until Tywin gets wind.”

“Fuck” Sansa covered her face with her hands. “Fuck, fuck fuck!”

“Oh yes” Jaime smirked, leaning down to kiss her once more before he retreated, taking her coffee with him. “Good luck, darling.” 

“Coward” she smirked. 

“Absolutely” he made it to his office as Tywin’s form appeared in the doorway to hers, the newspaper in his hand. 

“Tell me, for once, these buffoons got it right?” Tywin beamed, shoo-ing Oberyn from the spare chair and sitting across from her. Oberyn smiled to himself as he returned to his desk in the outer office, leaving them alone.

“Unfortunately, no” she told him. 

“I am not a young man, Sansa” Tywin reasoned. 

“If I wasn’t on the pill, I would worry that you would be poking holes in Jaime’s condoms” Sansa crossed her arms, leaning against the desktop. 

“Petty, but” he shrugged. “Desperate times…”

“You’re quite adorable,” Sansa smirked. “This terrifying man on television, but deep down you’re a big, old, softy. Tywin Lannister, teddy bear.”

Tywin laughed, his emerald eyes crinkling with amusement, “Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain.” 

“I’m watching you, Lannister” she pointed to her eyes with her index and middle finger and turned them on him. “Both eyes, on you.” 

“You’re a keen woman, Sansa Stark” Tywin tossed the paper onto the desk and stood. “I can’t wait until you’re a Lannister, proper.” 

“Always two steps ahead” Sansa smirked as he waved over shoulder, vanishing out the door. 

She sighed, tossing the stack of newspapers into the recycle bin and setting about the day’s work. Pushing the two Lannister men to the back of her mind for the time being and focusing on work.

“Oh, shut up” the woman’s voice reached her in time for Sansa to look up from her paperwork and see Cersei making her way into her office. 

“It’s alright, Oberyn” she assured her exasperated assistant, standing to greet the now-eccentric woman. 

Cersei watched as Oberyn retreated and then sighed deeply, facing Sansa, “Are you busy?”

“Not terribly, no” Sansa replied. 

“Good, come shopping with me” Cersei asked, pulling her sunglasses from her face and tucking them into her golden hair. 

“Sure” Sansa nodded. “Let me tell Jaime---”

“I’ll handle Jaime, get your things” Cersei smirked and Sansa gave a nod, grabbing her jacket and purse. “Jaime, I am stealing Sansa!” Cersei all-but screamed through the open doorway. 

“What?” Jaime appeared in the doorway. 

“Shopping” Cersei explained. 

“Anything fun?” Jaime smirked. 

“Possibly” Sansa smiled, pulling on her jacket and crossing to kiss him. “Behave.”

“Always” Jaime replied. 

“Or never” Sansa countered. 

“You know me well” Jaime grabbed her as she stepped away and kissed her once more, deeply this time. 

“Gods, you two” Cersei grimaced. “Enough already, we get it, you’re in love.” 

“Yeah, yeah” Jaime released Sansa, reluctantly. 

“Be back soon” Sansa pat his chest, slinging her purse over her shoulder as she followed Cersei into the hall and towards the autumn air. “So,” Sansa asked as they slid into the Lannister town car. “What is the occasion?”

“My divorce is final” Cersei explained, placing her sunglasses over her eyes once more. 

“Fantastic” Sansa agreed. “Let’s spend Robert’s money.”

“Absolutely” Cersei smirked, watching as the city flew by the windows of the car.

Jaime stood in his private quarters, a glass of whisky in one hand and the diamond ring in the other. Sansa was heading back from her day with Cersei and he was taking the opportunity to examine the ring he had purchased for Sansa nearly two moons ago. 

He had tried, in his own mind, many times, to ask Sansa to be his wife, but each time he opened his mouth to do so, the words seemed inadequate. What did a man say to a woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? To woman---no, a warrior that deserved far better than him at every turn. 

He did not know, and so, he remained silent. Much to his torment. 

For the past year, they had walked the path of Prime Minister and ‘First Lady’, side-by-side, facing everything together. Sansa’s expertise with the media and public relations helped them to keep the reporters at bay, which was why it was so amusing to see them grab ahold of cheap rumors like pregnancy. 

Though, truth be told, he wanted it to be true more than anything. 

Children---specifically, children with Sansa was something that he found he wanted badly, with a ferocity that he hadn’t known himself to possess. 

Of course, he had the urging of Tywin Lannister in his ear every moment of the day. The Great Lion wanted Sansa to be a Lannister, badly enough that Jaime would joke that perhaps Tywin should marry her himself. At that, Tywin would laugh, _If only I was younger_ Tywin would smirk. 

Jaime chuckled, setting the whisky and ring on the table before moving to the window. He never imagined that he would manage to find a woman his father approved of, let alone one that Cersei would _willingly_ spend time with. But Sansa was stronger than any simpering fool, Sansa was incredible. 

The unexpected echo of high heels in the hall had him looking to the door as Sansa entered, his eyes widening with terror as he looked to the ring on the table. 

“Fuck” he muttered as Sansa set her bags aside and shrugged out of her coat. 

“Some greeting that is” she raised a brow, crossing to where he stood by the window. 

“No, that’s not it” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her. 

“Oh, good” she smirked, going on tiptoe to kiss him. “How was your day?” 

“Busy” he ran a hand through her hair. “It's very dull around here without you. How was your afternoon with Cersei?”

“Her divorce is final” Sansa explained. “She was on a mission, very determined.” 

“Finally free of Robert” Jaime nodded. 

“Not that Robert is an issue, Stannis saw to that” she smiled. 

“Stannis would throw himself in front of a train, should you ask” Jaime kissed her forehead. 

“That’s a bit dramatic,” she laughed, holding him tightly. “I am exhausted though, I need a drink, I think--”

Jaime watched in horror as Sansa turned to the table and the decanteur, her eyes locking on the open ring box on the table, “Fuck.” 

“Jaime…?”

“I didn’t expect you home so early” he whispered. 

“Is that…”

“I have had it for months,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t know...how to ask, what to say.”

“It's pretty straight-forward” Sansa reached out for the box only to pause, pulling her hand back. “You want to marry me?”

“More than anything” he moved to her side. 

“Oh my Gods,” she choked on a sob. “Jaime.”

“I love you” he placed a hand on her hip, turning her to face him. “How do I ask the greatest thing in my life to spend _her_ life at my side?”

“Exactly like that” she replied, placing her hands over his heart. 

“Will you marry me, Sansa?” he asked her, his heart racing with fear and excitement. 

“Yes” she smiled up at him, her bright blue eyes filled with tears and a sparkle of incomparable happiness. 

“Yes?”

She nodded, “Absolutely” she laugh-cried as he leaned toward the ring, pulling it from the box and turning back to Sansa. She lifted her left hand and he slid the gold band around her third finger, the solitaire shining back at him. “We’re getting married” she smiled. 

“We are” he laughed. “I can’t wait” he lifted her into his arms and carried her through the chambers to the bedroom. 

Sansa lowered her lips to his and he lost himself to her kisses, both of them falling to the bed in their own private celebration of their engagement. 

“Prime Minister Lannister!”

“Mister Prime Minister!”

“Prime Minister, over here!” 

Jaime pushed the shouts and cries from his mind as he focused on helping Sansa from the car, ensuring she was steady on her feet before he helped her to grab the car seat-slash-carrier from the back seat as well. 

He smiled down at the tiny bundle, the guards hovering around him as he helped his wife and their newborn daughter into number 10 Downing Street, away from the prying eyes of the media. 

They, of course, had enjoyed the circus that had come with the grand wedding of the Prime Minister and shortly after, the announcement that Sansa Lannister, their First Lady, was pregnant. The Lannisters and the others in the office had circled around them to make sure they were safe and left alone as much as possible. 

Tywin had been the most ferocious in his protection of Sansa and the next little Lannister to join the world, a fact that came in handy when the duty of the realm kept him busy and away from Sansa. 

Now, just after their first wedding anniversary, and a month before Christmas, he was helping Sansa and little Joanna into their home. 

“I am fine” Sansa assured Tywin as he greeted them on the steps, his pride obvious as he beamed at Joanna. While she was named for Jaime’s mother, Joanna had Sansa’s bright red hair and, so far, blue eyes. Tywin had once said that he wanted another grandchild, this one with Sansa’s hair and spirit and it seemed he had gotten his wish. 

Once ensconced in the family quarters, Sansa sank onto the couch and elevated her feet while Jaime set the carrier down, lifting a fussy Jo from the cushions and carrying her to Sansa. 

“She is beautiful” Tywin agreed. “Well done, you two.” 

“I am afraid I cannot take the credit” Jaime lowered their daughter into his wife’s arms, Jo’s fuss settling at Sansa’s touch. “Sansa did all of the hard work.” 

“As usual” Sansa smirked, kissing her husband softly as he moved to sit beside her. 

“Now, that, I can agree with” Tywin leaned down to kiss the crown of Sansa’s hair. “I will leave you two to your privacy, but I will be back tomorrow.”

“Of course, Papa Tywin” Sansa smiled up at him. 

“Until tomorrow” Jaime shook his father’s hand as he left, but quickly refocused on his family.

When Jo’s whimpers turned to cries, Sansa worked her cardigan open and helped her to latch onto her breast. Jaime watched, his heart near to bursting at the stunning form of his wife and daughter. 

The day that Sansa had become his wife would forever be ingrained in his mind. They’d married in Lannisport at the family estate of Casterly Rock, savouring their private wedding ceremony before they faced the chaos of the realm. 

She had looked like a goddess as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. She had worn a stunning vintage gown of rich ivory, the creamy color complimenting her pale complexion and fiery hair. 

He had never loved her more than he did in the moment where she pledged her life to his. 

That was until she told him, several moons later, that their family would soon grow to include a little lion cub of their own. Watching Sansa grow with his child was incredible, an experience he couldn’t wait to have again, though not for another year or so. 

Joanna Catya Lannister was perfect, though he was biased. Her dusting of red hair was the perfect blend of Lannister Gold and Tully Copper, a sure sign that Jo would be as beautiful as her mother. 

“You’re perfection” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“I love you, you know, Jaime Lannister” she smiled over at him, holding Jo carefully as she nursed. “You’ve given me so much.” 

“And you, Sansa Lannister” he replied. “My darling, lovely wife, have given it back ten-fold.”

He sat beside her, arm around her as she cared for their daughter, and when the time came he took Jo, caring for her as he carried her down the hall and into the nursery. Together, they tucked Jo into her crib for the first time, staring down at her with unconcealed awe. 

“Dance with me” Jaime whispered, guiding Sansa into his arms. 

There was no music, but they did not need it, swaying softly hand-in-hand. Sansa rested her forehead against his jaw as she had so many times before. In the dim light of the nursery, they moved together, forgetting everything of the outside world, surrounded by love and peace. 

Together, they swayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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